


The World Ends At This Moment

by Iship_lover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, End of the World, M/M, Season/Series 05, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iship_lover/pseuds/Iship_lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Michael is Dead. Heaven has fallen. They are coming.” </p><p>The Apocalypse was over  in a way Sam and Dean and Castiel could not imagine it to end. <br/>In it's place, was something much, much worse. The world falls into disarray, and even the remaining Angels could not fight them.<br/>It was truly the end of the world.<br/>Heaven has fallen, and Hell is falling. How long would it take before the world itself breaks into pieces, never to be fixed again?</p><p>(Alternate Season 5)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

“Michael is Dead. Heaven has fallen. They are coming.”

Lucifer’s eyes burnt bright blue as he looked at Sam- looked at them all. Castiel’s eyes widens and Dean swears.

“ _What_ the _fuck_ do you mean by-”

Dean stops talking when Lucifer’s bright, glowing blue eyes fixes on him. The human was never scared of the angels, not at all, but somehow he could feel his blood run cold when Lucifer’s eyes looks into his, like billions and billions of years, unimaginable years of life and death and everything in between- Lucifer turns his eyes away, and Dean lets go of a breath he did not know he is holding.

“ _What_ is going on, brother?” Castiel asks, his voice higher than usual- more desperate. What are ‘they?’ Castiel did not know, but then Lucifer said the same words in Enochian he could feel a sudden, sharp twist of fear in his grace, that sinks in and hurts more than anything, oh, it hurts and Castiel could not breathe- not anymore-

Sam turns to look at Lucifer. The Archangel’s eyes, still glowing, infinitely _brighter_ than the sun and all the stars in the sky added together. Sam did not know why he made that decision, but when Lucifer fell to the ground with a loud ‘thud’ and closes those eyes of his, he told Dean to drag him into the motel room.

Dean protests at that, but hurries as he carries Lucifer in with Sam. The angel felt heavy in their hands, too heavy even for someone of his height. But then again, he is no human. Castiel stands, with his back stiff, eyes staring out into the dark outside the windows. It was raining.

“We should just throw him out.” Dean grumbles, and Sam shrugs.

He is still tense and uncomfortable that the Archangel found him here, but being around Lucifer does not make him as uncomfortable as he wanted to be. There was something wrong about that. There isn’t enough time to think of all that. He notices that all the wounds on Lucifer’s current body has healed.

“ _Dean._ ” They hear Castiel say, and they turn. Castiel looks pale in Jimmy’s skin, too pale, and eyes too wide. He was shaking. “ _They_ are coming.” He says, in an almost whisper. “I can _feel_ them.” There was a shake in his voice, and Sam and Dean catches him by his shoulders. “I can see them.”

Cas passes out as well, dropping onto the ground just like Lucifer.

“What the hell is going on!” Dean punches the wall after they drag Castiel onto a bed. Lucifer is still lying on the ground, Sam thought, with a slight malicious hint of glee.

“I _don’t know_.” Sam replies, thinking of Lucifer words, and what Castiel just said to them.

“The Devil there-” Dean says, pointing a finger at Lucifer’s unconscious form, “and Cas” he points at Castiel’s still body. “They both say that ‘ _they_ ’ are coming. What the _hell_ does that mean?!” Dean did not take what Lucifer said seriously. There was something about him that made it so that he could not take what any angel said seriously unless it was Cas who told him. And Cas told him what Lucifer told them.

“What ever it is,” Sam tells Dean, sitting down and opening up his laptop, “I think it killed _Michael_.”

“Shit.” Dean replies. He lies on the other bed, facing the ceiling. The information the Dick Angel and the not so dick Angel gave them was too much for one night, as far as he was concerned of. Michael was dead- if it was anyone else that said that Dean would’ve laughed in their face. But the Devil did and Castiel agreed, and suddenly Dean thought that maybe he was free- free from his bullshit destiny and being a vessel and everything else. But if Michael was really, really dead- the who killed him? What? And what could kill a freaking Archangel so fast that it made no impact on the planet below? Dean falls asleep, too many questions and too little answers in his mind.

 

Sam was nearly asleep when Lucifer woke up, walked by, pulled out a chair and sat by his side. “God made many things before he made us. We were the most perfect.”

Lucifer tells him, eyes far off into the distance. It was strange, how Sam could remain totally quiet when Lucifer talks, and not jump up to refute anything the devil tells him.

“Perfect, obedient soldiers.” Lucifer’s voice was soft- like _silk,_ Sam thought, but a little rougher- he shakes that thought out of his mind, and continues to listen. He needs the information Lucifer can provide.

“Before us, there were _them_. Not even the Leviathans can defeat them.” What the hell was a Leviathan? Sam wanted to ask.

Lucifer’s voice was flat and calm, and different from what Sam was used to. Sam thinks that it was because Lucifer talked with more emotion when he was meeting him, whether it was in a dream or real life.

Now, there was nothing in Lucifer’s voice. “They’ll destroy everything- Heaven would be gone first, and then it would be here, and then it would be Hell.” Lucifer sounds tired. Sam did not think that Archangels could be tired. He did not think that the Devil could be tired. Without even thinking about it, Sam reached out, and placed a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. Lucifer turns and looks at Sam, surprise in his eyes. Sam jerks his hand back, shocked and surprised at what he just did. Lucifer turns away again.

“God- _father_ made them before he knew that he could control what he makes. _He_ told us that.” Lucifer sinks into memories of the past. “Nobody can see them with their eyes- not even us- the Archangels.”

How long has it been since Lucifer has seen the other Archangels? He could not remember. Michael threw him into the cage, Gabriel disappeared and Raphael cut the ties between them. And now he was here and Michael was dead- He could still be alive, Lucifer told himself. Michael would not die so easily. But he could no longer sense him anymore.

The mist runs over him and then he disappeared, and Lucifer was hiding for the first time in billions of years, the bone deep fear that all angels have of ‘them’ biting into his grace, sinking in while his mind screamed. When the mist was gone, and Lucifer looks up again, Michael was gone as well, with not a trace left.


	2. The Day After

Sam saw that Lucifer stops talking in the middle of a sentence, and he opens his mouth, wanting to ask further questions, more questions, so many questions- Sam could feel the sadness, the utter hopelessness that washed over Lucifer’s figure. And suddenly he looked so lonely. So, so lonely.

Sam waited for Lucifer, a strange silence hanging over them. Sam did not argue and attempt to fight Lucifer. After all, there was nothing to fight about at this moment. Lucifer did not ask him to be his vessel, and there was nothing else that they really talked about. Sam glances at Lucifer again. His body was healed over, the burns fading. He wanted to ask about them. Does that meant that Lucifer no longer needed him for a vessel? Sam did not know, and he did not ask. He wanted to know, but how would he feel?

If Lucifer still needed him as a vessel, then it meant that Sam had to watch his back day by day. If Lucifer no longer needs him as a vessel, then that meant that Sam no longer had to worried about being taken over by some ancient, powerful being. It also meant that there were no reason for Lucifer to sneak into his dreams and just sit there with him. Sam shook his head. It seemed that Lucifer no longer needed him as a vessel. That is a good thing.

The two of them sink into a long silence, with nothing but the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the roof and the windows and the slight snores of Dean in the background. It was a slightly awkward silence.

“Lucifer?” Sam asks, his voice louder than he wanted it to be in the dark.

“They killed Michael, Sam,” Lucifer turns to him then, a shake in his voice, and he turns to him. There were no more scars and lesions on his face. “They killed Michael.” Lucifer sits down, face in his hands. He seems so small and in pain at this moment, Sam _almost_ felt _bad_ for the Devil. He thinks that what Lucifer is feeling now is what Sam felt when Dean died- all three hundred or so times. He could feel waves of sadness from Lucifer as he sat there, with his head down.

“I will destroy them all.” Lucifer’s eyes met Sam’s, and Sam could not say anything to that.

“What are they?” Sam asks, feeling more than a little bit stupid, at having this conversation with Lucifer. He thinks that it’s a complete miracle that him and Lucifer has not fought and argued like they had in Sam’s dreams. “You have to tell us.”

Lucifer nods, and turns to look at Sam. He did not expect the younger Winchester to talk to him like they were working together- he wanted that for so long- for his vessel to accept him, but now all he could think of is them. “They don’t have any bodies- at all. They would appear as mist, and everything the run pass would disappear.” The only time Lucifer saw them, was when they breached Heaven, when it was first formed. Gabriel was just made then, and God’s protective seals were not so strong, they leaped towards him, the brightest of them all. “They are attracted to energy, and would consume everything.”

The three of them- Michael, him, and Raphael, dragged Gabriel with them as they pushed their new wings to their limits. Heaven broke under their faceless bodies, as the light, pearl colored mist swept across the young Heaven. It was God who returned and sealed the ancient horrors away.

“Father sealed them away. But they kept consuming the seals- those were made from energy too.”

“Then why wouldn’t God seal them away again?!” Sam frowns, and asks. Lucifer grins, the expression twisting his face into a bitter mask.

“Because my father has abandoned us....and _you humans too_. To think, he used to _love_ you all so much...” Lucifer begins to laugh then, tears running down his cheeks, his laughter becoming louder and louder. He falls into the chair. He kept laughing. It was laughter, Sam thought, but the sound was like knives, thick with pain and anger and a sort of _desperation_.

 

Dean wakes up. “Wha-?” Dean rubs his eyes, turning to Sam. Lucifer sat there, draped over the table, with tears on his face and shaking shoulders, except he was laughing.

“Dude...is the _Devil_ crying on my table?” Dean stares, rubbing his eyes with a sleeve. A dirty sleeve. Sam turns up his nose at his brother’s lack of hygiene.

“It’s not _your_ table, Dean.” Sam rolls his eyes. The two of them pointedly ignored Lucifer, who was still laughing and crying on the table. He feels slightly uncomfortable at his brother watching Lucifer like this- at a moment when the Archangel is actually vulnerable.

Lucifer seemed to have fallen asleep, and Sam and Dean fall into an awkward silence.

 

Michael is dead, Lucifer thought. He walked into the mist to save Lucifer- the brother whom he thrown into hell, and yet Michael still _saved_ him. His brother turned back and looked back at him, and mouthed ‘run’ before pushing him away from ‘them.’ And then he walked into the mist.

Everything Lucifer could see became Michael.

“Brother.” Lucifer hears. He turns back, and saw Michael standing there, appearing as a younger John Winchester. And then he disappeared. And Lucifer was having hallucinations of his brother, watching him.

“I did not regret what I did back then.” Lucifer tells Michael- his hallucination Michael. “But I regretted what I said to you, and what I did to Heaven.” His voice was cracked and dry, and Lucifer could feel tears welling up in his eyes- his vessel’s eyes- yet again.

“I’m _sorry_ , brother.” Sorry that he never said that before Michael turned and left him behind.

 

When Sam woke again, Lucifer was sitting by the window, watching the sun rise. Cas was still lying on the bed. He thought of how long it took Lucifer to wake up, and how Cas is still passed out. Maybe this is the difference between a regular angel and an Archangel.

Still, before him and Dean had made sure that Lucifer would not harm them at all, they would still be more willing to trust Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got any ideas what 'they' could do to them? I'll take any ideas <3 
> 
> thanks!


	3. On the Run

Castiel blinks. And then he sits up with his back straight and eyes wide.

“Man, Cas, I think you just broke your back.” Dean told him. “We have’ta leave.” He narrows his eyes at Lucifer. “ _Lucy_ here said that they’re coming.”

He did not hide the distrust he has for Lucifer. The Devil ignored Dean, staring off at the sunrise. Dean was slightly irritated at that. Lucifer ignored the human. He was only helping this ragtag group of theirs because Sam was among them. He only cares for Sam- and Castiel, of course, he was his _brother_ after all. But Sam and Castiel would not leave Dean Winchester- that annoying, _insolent_ human behind. Shame.

Lucifer did his best to ignore seeing Michael out of the corner of his eyes. And to ignore the fact that everything here may be gone in the matter of what- a few days? Months? Years. This plane is a large one. From what Michael had told him before, ‘they’ move faster in empty spaces and planes of pure energy- like Heaven. Things are more _solid_ in Hell and the world of humans and monsters.

“They are?!” Castiel jumps up in a hurry. He turns to Lucifer. “Are you sure, brother, is it really _them_?” Castiel has seen them before. He was flying near the seal one day while flying.

He was only a fledgling then, and Lucifer had not yet fallen. The morning star visited them that day- the youngest batch of Angels, hatched from the low red clouds that hung by the sky at sunrise and sunset. They were so happy then, Castiel thought, that the brightest Archangel visited them. Castiel flew away, a bit too far, took a wrong turn in the unknown corners of Heaven, and he was lucky(or unlucky) enough that none of the older patrolling warriors saw him.

It nearly killed him that day, if it were not for his father sealing them away just on time. He could not see his father- his light would’ve burnt Castiel’s grace to dust. But he could feel God’s _anger_ \- anger that these creatures nearly broke into Heaven again. Castiel was _terrified_ then. Those dark creatures were the exact opposites of Angels- they could fight them, of course, if you had enough power. But God has stood between these creatures and the Angels for too long.

Castiel did not leave his cloud for three months after seeing them. Even as he grew into the warrior he now is, the memory of ‘them’ were welded into his mind. He pushed it down, of course, focused on the missions he was on. But it was always _there_. Last night, he sank into the same state he was in when he was a fledgling.

“They’re attacking Heaven the last time I saw them.” Lucifer replies, and Castiel falls into an uncomfortable silence. He wants to run, rush and fly up to Heaven and save his home- but-

“What about the souls in Heaven?” Castiel blurts out, and Sam and Dean turned to him, horrified looks on their faces.

“What do you mean the _souls_ -? Sam asks.

“What the hell is going on-” Dean grabs Castiel’s shoulder with a hand. “What do you mean they are attacking _Heaven_?!” Dean thought of his mother- her soul must be in Heaven- there is no way Mary Winchester’s soul would not go to Heaven.

“They are creatures created God before he made us.” Lucifer’s voice was cold, like a bucket of cold water dropped on their heads, cutting into the middle of their panic. “Souls are energy- like an Angel’s grace.” Lucifer continues- he has already explained this, of course, but he has to do it again- humans _never_ seem to understand something on the first go.

“Ever since out father...left,” Castiel’s voice shook a little. “Heaven has been powered by souls. If the souls are taken by them, then Heaven would fall apart.”

“Then what _can_ we do-” Sam asks, but was interrupted.

“There is nothing you can do.” Castiel shook his head. “Humans cannot get into Heaven. Not while they are alive.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do!” Dean sounded desperate. Lucifer shook his head. Sam glanced at him, not knowing what to say.

Everything they knew about the Apocalypse and the Angels and Heaven was flipped over on the sides. The Apocalypse is gone now, and what replaced it was much more _worse_ than Angels fighting each other to the death.

“If we find God- can he seal them up again?” Sam asks Lucifer. The Archangel shrugged. They left the motel in silence.

Dean was tense and uncomfortable, and Sam place an arm around his brother, trying to comfort him. Heaven was the place of many souls- souls of those whom they knew and those they do not know. Castiel and Lucifer walked in front of the Winchester brothers.

“We should go to Bobby’s,” Dean tells Sam. “He must know something, man- Sammy-”

“Not even Cas knows what to do, Dean.” Sam looked down on the concrete ground, like a golden retriever who was left behind, or something.

“Do we have to go with the Devil?” Dean frowns, and kicks at the ground. “You know he wants to wear you as a meat suit.”

“His current vessel seems pretty _good_ to me.” Sam answers dryly. There are still some slight burns on Lucifer’s arms and forehead, but definitely not the whole rotting _zombie_ thing he was.

“Still, we can’t really trust him.” Sam shrugs at that. He just have to be more careful around Lucifer, then. Lucifer said that they have a connection between them. Sam denies it, but sometimes he could feel the connection, as Lucifer said. Something between them, that is much more than Sam could imagine. It used to scare him. For some reason, Sam was almost glad that Lucifer was on their side now. The enemy of the enemy, as they said.

At least for some time. This time their enemy seems much stronger than all of those they have faced before. Somehow, Sam thinks that they could find a way to win. He does not know what he would have to sacrifice- not yet, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	4. The Mist

Castiel brushed shoulders with the righteous man. He knows that Dean did not trust Lucifer- he did not, as well, but the legend of the Morning star, from even after the fall, was what he grew up with. Michael was their general, Gabriel their fun-loving brother, and Raphael their healer, but Lucifer was the one who kept them together. Ever since his fall, Heaven became- colder, more militarized.

Michael became harder, more ruthless, and Gabriel ran away.

“There’ll be a way, Dean,” Castiel turns to Dean Winchester. His grace was bound to Dean’s soul ever since he gripped his soul in Hell, and patched his soul together. He would do _everything_ he could to help Dean.

“Yeah, thanks, Cas.” Dean kicked at the rough gravel road yet again.

“Are you sure we should listen to Lucy over there?”

“You humans have said that the enemy of your enemy-”

“Is our _friend_ , yeah, but he’s the _devil_ , man, Cas-” Dean did not notice that Cas was telling him to stop talking until he turns back and saw Lucifer standing behind him, arms crossed, and an eyebrow raised, looking pointedly at Dean.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Lucifer tilts his head. “And more than once at that....”

Dean glares back at Lucifer. “Oh yeah? Well why don’t you go-”

 _“Dean_!” Castiel grabs Dean by the hand and drags him back.

“Uh-” Sam walks towards Lucifer. “Look, man, Dean didn’t mean it- we should get going..”

Dean may not know, but Sam knows from experience from interacting with Lucifer that the Archangel- and he was an Angel, no doubt about that- _hated_ to be called the Devil or Satan or anything else but his name, really. Sam thinks he knows how that felt, being called a freak or a monster rather than his own name. But, he argues to himself- Lucifer is the Devil, of course- father of _lies_ and all evil and _all tha_ t, except-

“I would _never_ lie to you, Sam.” Lucifer told that to him, the first time they met. Except Sam really doesn’t want to trust him.

The hunter turns to glance at Lucifer. He was walking nonchalantly down to car park with them, but Sam does not know if he was reading his mind, just then.

“I would not read your mind if you do not want me to.” Lucifer said to him in his dreams.

“Well, I don’t.” The Sam in his dreams snarls back, and Dream-Lucifer nods in agreement. Dream-Lucifer looks like real Lucifer- except that Dream-Lucifer’s face and arms are clean of any burns and cuts. Now, they look the same.

 

Sam sat in the front of the Impala with Dean, whose face was still burning red. The two Angels(they’ve got two, now. Strange how all the Angels seem to flock to the Winchesters) squeezed together at the back. Castiel looks more than a little uncomfortable at being right next to Lucifer. Lucifer seems all and well relaxed, as if he belonged right there, leaning against the window of the Impala, fingers tapping on the leather seating.

“Why is your face so red, Dean?” Sam asks his brother, a concerned frown knitting his brows together.

“Don’t ask.” Dean growls, and Sam shrugs. Whatever it was, it’s Dean’s business. Lucifer snickers at the back seat.

They drive off, and Sam could tell that damages from the Apocalypse- the two of them- was really settling in. Along the highways cars were flipped over and houses were wrecked, but there were no sound of anything at all, except the silent static of broken down electronics.

Lucifer takes a dagger from Sam and cuts himself, drawing various sigils on the car windows and seats. Sam opened his mouth to ask about them, but decided not to. They’ve all made that decision to trust Lucifer and let him travel with them.

“Shit, _what’s that_ -” Dean swivels, and stops the car in a halt. Her wheels screeched against asphalt and Dean winced. Sam and Dean stared out of the windscreen at what was going on in front of them. Castiel’s eyes were fixated and Lucifer hurried with painting sigils, blood and graced leaking out of the various cuts on his hands.

There was mist all over the ground, and it seemed to move all on it’s own. It was pearl-white, and covered _everything_ it passed over. A house was covered and by the time it left all that was left was pieces of wood and concrete and the sound of shattering glass.

And then it came over to the car. Unlike the many hard and almost inedible materials on the earthly plane, ‘they’ liked to feed on the energies of souls and grace and demons. But even without God’s seals, the Angels have ways of deceiving them, and hiding the human souls from them.

The mist could split from it’s main body. God’s seal was still working, even if it’s energy was almost depleted from years and years of attacks from the mist. It could only slip out pieces of it’s body, to have it consume more and more energy, to supply the mother body till the day of reckoning. Until then, ‘they’ have to wait in the realm of nothing, where there was no energy except for the seal, and they have to wait in _hunger_.

The mist swept over the Impala, and Castiel spreads his wings out and covers the Winchester brothers. Lucifer’s blood was all over the car, but now he could barely see anything and could only hope for the spells to work- Luckily, he was an Archangel and have learnt many, many things about spells and sigils.

Lucifer could say that he was the best of all his powerful brothers at spells- that was why so many witches decided to worship him, after all.

The mist swiveled and spiraled around the car. The other ones like this machine could be easily take in by it’s body, leaving nothing behind except for rust and metal, but something is blocking it from reaching the souls inside. It was only a part cut off from the main body, and the only thing it knew was to devour. It was not as cunning as it’s mother body, of course.

The mist leaves the Impala behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts on this chapter? :D


	5. Silence

“Good work, little brother.” Michael says to Lucifer, turning around and smiling at him in his borrowed body. Lucifer tenses, and the shadow of his brother disappears, leaving a hot breeze. There was something wrong about this image, of course, but Lucifer did not want to think too much of it- not yet.

Dean opens his eyes. The highway has cracked in more places, and the skeletons left behind by other cars turns into dust as soon as a breeze sweeps across them. Sam turns back to look at Lucifer. He was covered in grace and blood, but his wounds were already healing slowly. He lets out a breath. Sam did not want to think about why he was so concerned for Lucifer. Lucifer stares at Michael, and he disappears in front of him.

“Dude, what the hell was _that_?!” Dean turned to the Angels at the backseat. Lucifer has just saved all their asses- by what it looks like, of course.

“These sigils can hide the car from ‘them’”

“That was only a part of ‘them.” Castiel frowns and turns to Lucifer. His brother nods.

“Of course- God’s seal is still there, even if it was weakened. There would be _nothing_ left of this world, or Heaven, or Hell if the whole seal is gone.”

“You mean there is a way to get rid of them?” Sam turns over(which was hard to do in the front seat, but he manages)

“No yet.” Castiel knew that this was going to be the answer. He could almost feel the disappointment radiating from Sam and Dean- Lucifer’s sigils gave them hope, and then he took the hope away, but it was not his brother’s fault.

Lucifer leans against the window of the car, not bothering to heal his wounds. His blood should dry up soon, and these half-seals would remain for some time. They took up more grace than he thought they would, and it was only used against a small separate part of ‘them.’ Things did not look good for the world, but then again, _nothing_ ever did. Look good for the world, that is.

\--------------------------------------

Dean slammed his foot down on the accelerator, and headed off to Bobby’s garage. Hopefully the old man could see what’s up.(Hopefully ‘they’ haven’t got to his place yet, because then Dean would have no where to go anymore)

Castiel turns to Lucifer as they set off, the background of Dean’s music blaring through the headphones from those ‘cassette tapes.’

There was something wrong with his brother- well, there was _always_ something wrong with Lucifer ever since he was cast down and let out, but now Lucifer looks even worse.

He looked how Castiel felt- drained. And tired. Castiel thought of his brother’s burns. The grace of an Archangel can burn through backup vessels in an alarming rate. And it was for Lucifer, until recently. Which means that Lucifer’s grace is running out. Castiel felt for his own grace.

Unlike humans, Angels would never lie to themselves about what is happening but it still hurts Castiel that he is falling- and so is his brother. He thinks that it may be because of ‘them.’ But unlike Lucifer, Castiel does not have nearly as much grace as an Archangel- even a fallen one. Which means that the first to fall would be him. Castiel closes his eyes, and leant against the seating of the Impala.

\-------------------------

They’ve been on the road on and off for around a week and a half, now. Dean has tried to turn on the radio, of course, but nothing came out except for static.

There was only static on every single station.

“Dammit!” Dean glares at the machine. He thought it’d be useful to see what the news anchors and, well, things like that, but evidently they cannot connect to any signal.

“This is worse than I thought.” Sam whispers to Dean. “Look at everywhere around us.” They were driving past a suburb now, having stopped about half an hour back, filling up the tank and taking as much food as they could.

The small shop has already been raided once from what it looks like- which means that, nearly two weeks after Lucifer showing up everything has gone absolutely fucking crazy.

“I thought your kind would be more _resilient_ than just this.” Lucifer opens his eyes then. “It’s been one week only.”

“ _Two_ weeks, asshole.” Dean mutters, hands tightening around the steering wheel. It usually took much less time than this to get to Bobby’s, but with various bridges broken and dead cars on the side of the road and scorch patterns on the ground it made the journey a whole lot longer.

They have managed to contact Bobby, though- Sam’s new phone did not work- it fizzled out immediately, but the old backup ones in the back to the trunk still worked and they contacted the older hunter.

He was evidently not pleased about what was going on- thing’s a mess with the hunting community, Bobby grumbles. But there was nothing he could do except spread word to the other hunters about the ‘mist’ and how they would consume everything with energy.

They had no idea about what happened to the government, but judging by the occasional shot they hear in the dark and the absolute silence coming from everywhere around them, it was not good.

It was night by the time they got to Bobby’s- it was practically a miracle that the shack was still standing, but judging by the pile of junk piled around the place Bobby took what they said at heart. “Come’re, boys,” he says gruffly, pulling both Sam and Dean into a hug. Castiel stood around- like he always does, and Lucifer leant against a wall, dried blood still on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---so what do you think of this chappie? :D


	6. Chapter 6

It took Lucifer nearly one hour to explain what happened to the hunters in the room- Bobby has gathered quite a crowd, and Sam and Dean went up to greet the ones they knew- namely Jo and Ellen. Castiel and Lucifer flashed their wings and that got them believing half of the story- that also got them a handful of guns pointed at them.

Castiel frowns- guns cannot harm him, but that does not mean he likes to be shot at. Lucifer smirks at them and sticks out his tongue- his forked tongue, and he got all the guns and weapons pointed at him. There were a lot of hunters at Sioux Falls. He lifts his hands up in mock surrender. Sam tried to get the hunters to stop and Dean pulled him back.

“Dude, just no,” his brother hisses in his ear. “You’re not _bulletproof_ like them, man.” He does not hide his concern for Castiel, gesturing the Angel to get closer to him, and glaring at the people around him so they do not try to harm the Angel- his, _his_ Angel(where did _that_ thought come from?)

“You know, I’m the _only_ one who can help you right now,” Lucifer’s tone was light but every single person in the room could hear the warning in his voice- there is a kind of tone in his voice, smooth and light but sends chills down a person’s spine.

Sam swallows. That’s- kind of _hot_ , actually. He shakes his head, throwing that thought a thousand miles away, face slightly red. There are _better_ things to think about right now, Sam, he tells himself.

Things manage to get a little calmer in the room, only because it was Bobby’s territory and the world is _ending_ and they need all the help they could get.

“So the Devil is on our side?” Jo whispers to Dean, and he nods.

“Well, yeah. Unfortunately.”

“Dunno you know such a big word, Dean.”

“Shuddup.”

It took Lucifer and Castiel even more time to tell Bobby and the others what exactly is going on. Sam and Dean has heard the conversation before- twice, even. Still, it did not make the news better.

So far, everything they could do is draw as much sigils as they could. Lucifer produced images of the sigils he used to block away the creatures. But the only reason his ones worked for so long is because he has the grace to spend.

Regular paint or blood can only block them for a much shorter time.

“Unless you use vampire blood or demon blood.”

“Or the blood of other monsters?” Jo asks.

“Perhaps.”

\-----------------------------

Gabriel was running- and running fast- oh, he knew _what_ they were, all right. After the first night of ‘them’ being here he knew what they were, since they did chase him and his friends around the world. Damn, but those friends of his- the pagan gods, after all these years he did think of them as friends- were good at running.

Well, so is he. Good at running, that is. And there is nothing to do but _run_ , since getting caught meant certain death. None of Heaven’s brightest quoir saw anyone coming back after being taken by the mist. They were just gone- like that. His brothers couldn’t even reach the ones who disappeared with the link in their minds.

So he ran. He thought about the time when he was first made- the youngest of the four Archangels, born only a short time before the seraphs were born of the clouds at sunrise. They were running, his brothers and him.

Sometimes, he’d thinks about why his father made ‘them’ stronger than the Angels. Than his most brightest, most glorious children. ‘They’ were so much more _powerful_ , more destructive, but then again, they had no mind of their own, they cannot form any thoughts except for ‘ _destroy_ ’ and ‘ _consume_.’

Gabriel was in cellar now, covered in blood. Ones of his own and ones of the godly friends of them. He thinks that even if his father was here he could not kill these earliest children of him. Gabriel heard Michael say once that ‘they’ were more like God’s _sibling_ than God’s child.

Their father told Heaven’s greatest general that before God had a mind of his own- and thoughts of creation his instincts split out a part of himself(like a cell forming a daughter cell) that was full of darkness and mindless destruction.

Now, Gabriel is not so sure that ‘they’ were so mindless. After all, they were a part of _God_ , no matter how long their father has sealed them away for. They must’ve grown _something_ like a brain by now.

And it shows. How ‘they’ know to split off parts of themselves to do the mindless consuming for them, disappearing as soon as they got what they wanted. ‘They’ are a lot smarter than they used to be. They were still chasing him, and he split up with his friends.

Except for that one time about two or three weeks ago when he felt that the crowd of mist chasing him lighten. They probably found a even more _delicious_ piece of meat. Gabriel wonders if they got one of his brothers.

He got himself cooped up with so many sigils the trickster could barely feel anything at all. Cut off completely from the outside world. Even his pagan ties.

He hopes that- whatever ‘they’ were after, ‘they’ didn’t get it. The walls around him was concrete and metal. From what he has seen they hated concrete. Metal was better but they stayed away from concrete.

Gabriel sucked on a lolly. It was the only thing he could do. Another week or so and he has to leave, he thinks. The lolly was strawberry flavored. His favorite kind, too. Gabriel ran a hand through his previously slicked, now messy hair. Ah, matted blood in his hair, too. Exactly what he wanted. God, he hated those things.

Wonder how’s the big L’s doing? He felt his brother get out of his cage- heck, _everything_ vaguely supernatural felt it. And then they came, of course, and everybody forgot about poor ol’ Lucy.

 

Our father in Heaven, Gabriel closes his eyes, bring his hands up to his chin and closed his eyes. Please, if you are listening- if you are even here, please help us. Help us all. Please help Lucifer as well. It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? The great big Apocalyptic plan.

Nothing matters anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's give a big welcome for Gabriel's first appearance! //throws flowers//


	7. The silence before the storm

“God is dead! Nothing can save us now!” They cried and they cried, tears rolling down their eyes. They were only _human_ , after all. It was almost a month since the night- or day- the mist blocked out the sun and the moon and the stars.

Five of them in total knelt on the ground, blood pouring out their eyes as the pentagonal symbol they were kneeling on spun faster and faster. The men and women cried out to the skies and the mist swept over the streets. Most screams were cut off in a second- When this was over only the lucky ones were alive, and only a few buildings still stood.

The witches- and they were witches- poured more and more _magic, power, borrowed power_ or their own power on the sigils and symbols, because there is an ancient, indescribable power within these symbols, and it’s something they could not even barely begin to understand.

If they did not use any magics and hid themselves, then the witches _may_ have survived this.

Even the demons have burrowed themselves back into hell and sealed up their seals. Hell was not lacking in fallen Angels and they certainly knew _what the hell_ is going on.

Magic contains too much energy to not catch _their_ attention, and the mist sweeps over the house. The witches did not even have the time to scream before they were swept over into nothingness. No one knew what goes on in the mist. Do you die instantly, or does something else happen?

There was no answers. Things were not faring well for the monsters of the world- even the ones in Purgatory, although most creatures do not know the existence of Purgatory.

The monsters like vampires and werewolves and spirits and ghouls and all the other creatures of the dark were fleeing away. Most of the Angels and Demons were concentrated in the United States because of the Apocalypse, and so all these creatures began to flee away from the continent- to other continents and to the deep oceans and islands away from the center of conflict.

There was something frightening to the bone about the mist.

\----------------------------------

Sam Winchester was trying to connect his laptop with the internet, but he could not. The tall, long-limbed man slams the laptop shut after the sixteenth try.

“You know,” Lucifer voice was smooth and the Archangel himself walks with a certain quietness that catches Sam with surprise every time. “The world wide web probably contains a lot of energy.” He raises an eyebrow. "They have probably consumed it already." 

“Great. They ate the _internet_.” Sam grumbles. And it really was great- not. They’ve been on the road again, after three days of being cooped up in Bobby’s place, going off to do what they usually do. Saving people, that is. Except instead of hunting things they were being _hunted_ by things.

“Your kind surprises me a little.” Lucifer’s voice was soft and like silk. Very nice to listen to. “Managing to get things together so _fast_.”

“Well, yeah. Us _mud monkeys_ can do a lot of things you would never think we could.”

The remaining survivors in the South Dakota area has sorted themselves out- camped out in the remains of buildings that was still standing. Half of the police force of the state was gone but the ones left made good on their promises to keep the civilians together. Survivor’s camps were being built up with things like concrete and stone. And the hunters and other groups with weapons and enough skills to survive out in a world like this would drive around and search for other groups of survivors, scattered across the state and other places.

Lucifer shrugs at Sam’s biting words, and just sat there, staring at Sam.

The Winchester found the ex-Archangel’s stare more _intense_ than creepy, and not in a bad way, either. Which says something about Sam. Because it was one thing to strike up a deal with the Devil and another thing to feel so... _relaxed_ around him.

Sam find himself staring at Lucifer’s eyes all the time, like he could not control himself. When Lucifer looks at Sam it is almost like Sam was his world, his _everything_ , and Sam would lose his breathe, and blink, and then it was over like an illusion.

Sam shakes his head, and Lucifer was looking at the bright night sky again. That made Sam think that what he saw was a trick of the light. There was no way Lucifer- who made it very clear that he despised humanity- would look at Sam- so completely, utterly, human- like that.

\-------------------------------------

Dean was drinking on his own- when he does that it means that the hunter just wanted to get drunk when-

“Your liver is already showing signs of damage from your drinking, Dean, that is not good for your health.”

Dean chokes on his beer. “ _Je_ _sus,_ Cas!” He turns- and there he was, the Angel right by his back, tilting his head with that confused look in those baby blue eyes. 

“You don’t just sneak up on a guy like _that_!” 

“But I was not sneaking-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Dean says quickly, holding his hand up and shaking it at the angel. Damn, Cas seems so confused and weirdly _hopeful_ every time he looks at Dean, and that makes Dean feel strangely guilty every time he raises his voice at the guy. Well, Angel. 

“Dean.” Castiel went up and took the beer away. “You need to look after yourself more. The world depends on you and Sam.” “Well,” Dean grumbles, leaning on the Impala. 

“Sammy and the Devil seemed to have taken up that particular job.”

“Lucifer is on humanity’s side now, at least temporarily.” Castiel lands a hand on Dean’s shoulder- the one with the handmark, in an attempt to comfort him.

“Uh,” Dean shifts a little, but Cas’s hand remained across his back and on his shoulder. He thought of asking the Angel to let go, but then it would probably hurt his feelings, or something(and something in Dean strongly disliked the idea of hurting Cas in any way at all).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of this chapter?


	8. The thing about brothers and blood

Michael closes his eyes. Michael opens his eyes, and he was somewhere else entirely. What happened to him? Heaven’s general thought, and reached for his blade. He could not move- he could not move at all. He cannot feel his grace, and he could not feel anything at all. There was nothing but silence. Sheer darkness and silence.

If Michael could see what was happening to his grace he would begin to struggle and fight against ‘them.’ The mist, which fills this empty space completely was one _infinitely_ large entity of space and darkness, and it was corroding him, biting into his grace and breaking it open so the blue light grows weaker and weaker. Michael tried to close his eyes, but he could not. There was nothing left but him in this empty space, and there was nothing left but his awareness that he was...here.

What did he do? Michael remembers seeing Lucifer. His brother. And he remembers seeing ‘them,’ and standing in front of his younger brother, pushing him away from the danger. If Michael was human, tears would be falling from his eyes- but he was not human, and he did not, technically have eyes or tear glands.

Lucifer would have lost the Apocalypse had they fought. His brother was never made for fighting. Lucifer was the lightbringer, the Angel of music, the first lawyer in Heaven. He was, in all essence, an office worker. Michael, on the other hand, was Heaven’s greatest general, the highest commander of all the garrisons. If he fought against Lucifer the younger Archangel would have lost, and lose his life as well.

So Michael walks into the hands of those creatures and told Lucifer to _run_. No matter how much he told himself throughout the years that he has to fight Lucifer to the death, he never quite accepted it. Something in him always held out for hope that he did not have to kill his brother after all. He walked in front of Lucifer and shielded him from danger because it was in his instinct to protect his little brother.

He thinks that every big brother would give everything to protect his younger brother- or maybe it was just him. Michael tried to close his eyes again. He was dying, but calm in a way he hasn’t been for a long time. He saved his brother. And then the dark world in front of him lit up with the scenes of battle.

Michael was wearing his armor again, wings like fire souring towards the sky, proud and full of godly rage. Michael was still Michael, but he could not control the movement of his body as he raised his arm carrying his old sword- the sword that Michael destroyed after Lucifer fell. And Michael knew what was happening.

‘They’ want him to release the hold he has on to his identity, his grace, so they paralyze him, wanting him to fall under a deep comatose sleep, and when that did not work, they begin to show him images from his past so the Michael could be overwhelmed with pain and lose hold, and then the Archangel’s grace could be used to propel ‘it’s’ growth. If that is the case, Michael would not let them succeed.

He knows how strong an Archangel’s grace is. If they succeed then the breaking of the seal would truly be near. And he cannot let that happen.

* * *

 

Gabriel’s previous hiding place breaks down and he is on the run yet again, shoving his grace deep into his body that not even a small spark could be detected and doing the same with his pagan magic. God, this felt terrible- a trickster with no magic is no trickster at all but there is nothing he could do if ‘they’ continue to be on his ass and no tricks to be played if all of humanity gets destroyed.

He felt naked without any grace, any power at all, but at least that meant ‘they’ chased him as much as they chased any human. Which was a lot better that the previous, all out chase down he was previously experiencing. It was surprising, even to Gabriel, how stubborn about surviving humans are.

The initial wave nearly wiped out fifty percent of the population, but it also meant that ‘they’ had such an energy overload in such a short time that only small pieces of the mist was wandering the earth.

Still, meeting the Samsquatch did surprise him quite a lot. Not to mention Lucifer. And then he was carried off in a swirl of feathers and slightly tainted grace and blabbering in enochian. Gabriel got his arms around his older brother before he could even say anything.

His brother would always recognize him instantly, no matter how good his disguise is.

\------------------------------

“The thing is,” Dean asks, back at the base they were staying at- the one in South Dakota, that is, in one of the large wheat fields that was previously filled with nothing but pieces of dead grass. “If Angel mojo is so damn tasty to ‘them,’ then why do they chase Cas and the Trickster like crazy but not the Devil there?”

He shoots an accusing glance at Lucifer, who was perched nonchalantly on a chair on his bare tiptoes, which really, _really_ irritates Dean. It was only the hunter and the devil in this part of the base now, warding on of the walls in Lucifer’s blood, and Jesus Christ, but that was _disturbing_.

By now the entire base- including the Hunters and cops and a handful of supernatural creatures, knew how important Lucifer was to this whole thing. Even Cas mentioned donating some of his blood, but with Dean’s vehement protests he has to give up on that thought.

“Because,” Lucifer _drawls_ , and Dean feels his hands itch to punch him in his smarmy face. But then again, he was the, ‘quote’ only hope in this entire thing’ ‘unquote.’ Spoken by Sam while shit-faced drunk. “I have been ripped from Heaven and kicked into the dredges of Hell. Hell is all darkness and so are ‘they.”

And there he goes again. That creepy tone of voice that Dean never would get used to. Honestly, the older Winchester has no idea how Sammy manages to stay in one place with the Devil for so long when they do their research poured over impossibly large tomes of ancient books.

“And?” Dean takes another sip of his beer. Since all the food and alcohol- and everything else was rationed the quality of everything has gone right down.

“It’s all dark, ancient things.” Lucifer nods at one of the new sigils he has completed. “They dislike the cage, and what it represents, and I have the symbol of the cage tackered all over my grace.”

“Can’t we, y’nno, shove ‘them’ into your cage, or something?” Dean leans forwards, suddenly much more into this conversation, because he could see hope again- something that would work-

“They, Winchester, would destroy all of this plane before anyone gets it near the cage.” Lucifer's blood stained finger slides down the wall, and the last stubborn burn that still clung on his right arm disappears entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3<3


	9. Blood brothers and night talk

Lucifer could see Michael again, leaning against the wall, as he cut into his wrist, letting the blood pour out of the vein into the bucket. It was bright red- human blood, with grace filling every cell, dripping into the metal bucket while it fills up slowly. There is _power_ in blood- power in demon blood, angel blood, and the one of an archangel is especially powerful- and good for drawing and carving the protective sigils on these walls.

Lucifer scoffs a little at himself. Why the _hell_ is he even helping the _humans_? He could retreat back to hell and keep that place shut with as much protection as he could, and wait until ‘they’ have had their fill. Of course, Sam Winchester is here, and if Lucifer dragged him down to hell with him then Apocalypse or no his idiotic younger brother and the righteous man would break into hell just to get him.

A whole bunch of _trouble_ is what they are. There is, of course, another problem. If ‘they’ consumed all of Heaven and the Earthly plane(he knows that the Angels are fighting in Heaven, of course they are), then Hell, sooner or later, would be gone as well, and perhaps even the other realm.

And then there would be nothing but ‘them’ left. And then what would happen after that? Lucifer had _no idea_. He had an idea that his father might now, but it was not like God has ever been anything but cryptic to his children.

“ _Why_ do you treat yourself like this, Lucifer?” Michael asks him, too much concern and care to be his brother, when the clearest impression Lucifer has of Michael was the one from right before he fell, when Michael was pushing him into the cage, wings spread, golden light like a halo behind his back while he fell into the mouth of a untamed beast.

“Shut it, _Michael_ ,” Lucifer mutters, and the hand holding the knife shook a little. He tried his best not to talk to Michael- there was something wrong about the shadow of his most likely dead brother following him around that does not bode well for anything at all. And talking to Michael’s- shadow, means giving him more power, and the more he talks to him the longer he stays around.

Michael was crouching down now, and grabs his arm. Lucifer stiffens, blue eyes hardening as he glared at the hand on his arm that was curled around his wound, still bleeding into the bucket. Lucifer would let as much blood flow as possible, and heal the wound, and then let more blood out.

His cuts took longer to heal when Michael was there- and he felt the pain more, even if it just went from a mosquito bite to a dull ache. Not much of a change, but Lucifer has an eye for the details.

\----------------------------------

It was pretty awkward for Sam to be standing right there, watching the two angelic- Arch-angelic brothers laughing and hugging each other.

“Why, you miss me, _Lucy_?” Gabriel- holy shit, the Trickster was an _Archangel_?, taunts, and secretly Sam thought Lucifer would rip off his arm for talking like that, but then he just grins and ruffles the Trickster’s (never going to get used to calling him Gabriel, ever) hair.

Sam misses the whole reconciliation between brothers talk, but he knows how strained and awkward that must be, when the two of them came out with a bruise forming on Lucifer’s jaw(must take an Angel to injure another one, huh?) and a black eye around one of Gabriel’s eyes.

But they were both smiling, so Sam rolls his eyes and points Gabriel to the registration center. They have one of those, too.

“How was the brotherly talk going?” Sam asks, more curious than anything. Lucifer shrugs. It was one of those actions Sam taught him, just to walk the earth looking more like a human and less like an angelic robot. Not that Sam thought Lucifer was like a robot- he was more of a hurricane _shoved_ into human skin.

“Not bad.” Lucifer raises an eyebrow at the younger Winchester, and Sam could feel his own lips moving to form a smile.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Lucifer’s eyes does not turn away from Sam after the first half minute of staring or so, and Sam found it strange- strange, but not uncomfortable, how intense the blue eyes are, and how they seem to glow under the moon light.

Strangely enough, ‘they’ never tried eating the moon.

“What?” Sam asks, wanting to peel himself away from this conversation. His mind screams at him that this is wrong, to be in one place with Lucifer for so long. It was _dangerous_ to be here, but Sam feels too calm, too at peace to force himself to leave. He seems to _relax_ around the fallen Archangel, and it troubles him.

“It’s hard to try and make yourself hate me when you don’t.” Lucifer’s voice was quiet, but it sounded too loud to Sam. Like he just took away all of Sam’s pretenses and exposed his intentions, his raw feelings right in the air, bare to be seen by all- how he just cannot feel the fear or disgust he is _supposed_ to feel about the devil who wants him as a meat suit(and he knows that as well, Lucifer told them).

And even now, he still cannot bring himself to truly admit that he hates Lucifer- even if he wants to- even if he _has_ wanted to for so long.

“I-” Sam meets Lucifer’s eyes, and falls silent again. They seem to be able to tell everything he knows, even if Cas put spells on him to prevent his mind to be read.

“There is a connection between us, Sam. You were _always_ meant for me.” Sam wanted to run, but his legs were stuck to the ground.

And Lucifer turns, and disappears with the sound of moving air.

Sam let out a breath, and found that he still cannot feel the fear and hatred that he is supposed to feel as Lucifer’s- vessel. He did not admit that he was

 _disappointed_ that his time alone with Lucifer was cut short.

He could never admit that. The moon was cold up in the air, seemingly taunting Sam for not being able to face himself, not even once.

"Shut up," he mutters to no one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah！ Sorry for not updating yesterday! I had an exam :)


	10. The light of the Heavens

Castiel was glaring at Dean’s wounds again, as if that could make the large red gash disappear. Just from the force of angelic _anger_. But that was impossible, of course.

“ _No way_ , Cas,” Dean mumbles again, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of Bobby’s whiskey- the good one. It was the end of the world- well, nearly, and drinking the good drinks while there was still time made way more sense than not.

Castiel was looking at the bottle like that would make it disappear as well. “Dean, let me heal you.” He places a hand over the bloody bandages.

Dean was keeping a small part of the mist from reaching a group of survivors when he had to roll over in a ditch and was stabbed by a piece of concrete. And Castiel was _too far_ away from him then, too occupied with using Lucifer’s blood sigils to keep the mist away from the new entries to the South Dakota base. Even with most communications lines destroyed, the name of the South Dakota base spreads across the states.

“Man, Cas, you said you were out of grace! It’s just a small cut-” Dean _growls_ at the Angel now. Like Cas thinks he could not tell the dark circles under his eyes or the way _exhaustion_ seems to be piled upon him. Angels can go for- well, forever without sleeping but Dean swears that he has seen Cas lean on the side of a wall or sit on a chair with his head drooping down-

“I do not need much grace to heal this, Dean, just let me-” His hand is pressing on the wound again. It was not a deadly wound, but with most hospitals shut down and medicine worth it’s weight in gold there is a much higher chance of Dean getting infected and dying from the wound.

“I- _fine_.” Dean grumbles, and gives in to those baby blues. It was like Sam with his puppy eyes all over again. Even if he knows that he shouldn't.

Castiel let out a breath in relief, and lets his grace knit Dean Winchester back together again, and it does not matter that his link with Heaven is weaker by the day or that he would become human in another half year if his grace leaves at this rate. He looks into the righteous man’s deep green eyes, like the forests that covered the earth before the humans have become even remotely like the homo sapiens of today.

And Castiel thinks that it’s all worth it, everything he has done. It’s all worth it for Dean.

\------------------------------

“Hey, big brother.” The sound of wings and a flash of golden light. Gabriel was always the fastest one of them all. And then he was standing there, always the trickster. Lucifer turns to him. They were standing on the roof, circling each other, a contrasting imagine. Lucifer has always been slightly cold. All high up and bright and beautiful, but never one to mix with the masses. Gabriel, on the other hand, has a warmer air about him.

A trickster, a prankster with a smile always on his face.

“It’s been such a long time.”

“It has.” Lucifer nods at Gabriel. And Michael was there again, but even Gabriel could not see him. Michael's shadow was placing a hand on his shoulder now, as if knowing what Lucifer is thinking about then. If this was the real Michael, he probably did. He knew Lucifer best out of all of them.

“I’ve _missed_ you, Lucifer.” And Gabriel hated how he sounded like a _kid_ again, but there was no hiding from Lucifer, not even behind games and tricks and pranks. It was just him, and his brother, and the crumbling wall between them.

It was a cold night, but neither of them felt it. They both knew what was happening.

“I missed you too.” It took Lucifer what felt like an hour to say it, but it was true. How he missed his brothers- _all_ of them, and seeing Gabriel reminds him of all his brothers, and how Heaven’s light is much much lower.

And then Gabriel found himself wrapping his arms around Lucifer’s waist, burying his face in the crook of his brother’s neck. Lucifer’s arm came up round his back, and there was tears in Gabriel’s eyes. _God_ , he missed his brothers so so much. He misses them all.

“You can see it too, right?” Gabriel was feeling more emotional than he had been for thousands of years. Has it really been that long since he has left? “Heaven’s light is...”

“Dying.” Lucifer pats Gabriel’s back, like how he used to pat the younger Archangel’s wings, when they were both glowing orbs of light.

“Yeah.” Gabriel clung onto Lucifer’s shirt and Lucifer cannot bring himself to let go of his brother, because if he lets go now there would be no chance of them seeing each other again. Call it a feeling, but Gabriel has always trusted his instincts. So he holds on as long as he can.

\---------------------------------------

Sam never liked the way Lucifer seemed to glance at corners for longer than he should be, or look over his shoulder, or focus too long on the side of the road when he insists on following Sam out on rescue missions when he gets injured once or twice(and he knows that Lucifer put a hex bag for good luck on him, of course he knows, and it makes Sam feel warmth on his face and a strange happiness in his heart.)

Call it intuition, but he knows that there is something _wrong_ with Lucifer. He even cornered Gabriel once(can’t call him the trickster anymore, can he?), but he just shrugged and shook his head and gave Sam a wedgie, so he opted to keep a slight distance.

So when Sam saw Lucifer do it again, staring at his hand when he was letting his blood out- and yeah, Sam hated seeing that as well. He could not stop himself for asking a question that has been on his mind for forever.

“ _What_ are you looking at, when you stare at the walls?”

Sam knew that he probably said something wrong when Lucifer snapped around to face him, eyes glowing blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	11. Chapter 11

And Sam and Dean was running again, after pulling three or four people out of a crumbling building. The time it took to find survivors were longer and longer, which should be a good thing. It meant that there are more people in the bases around the country, and less people out there, facing against those creatures that consumes and destroys everything in their paths.

Of course, with the amount of monsters either running off and partying like the _ends days_ are coming or joining up the base(Dean protests this but Lucifer seems to welcome them, even if he takes blood from them all the time. Sam thinks he’ll have to trust the fallen Archangel on this.)

“Run! I’ll hold them back!” Ellen yells as she threw one of Lucifer’s carved blood sigils at the mist and it shifted back away from the humans(Lucifer’s blood and some special piece of holy wood that Sam desperately wanted to study, of course).

“Mom!” And there was Dean, grabbing Jo and dragging her away as Sam keeps his arm tight around the two screaming and crying kids. There was a gash on his face and he was pretty sure that his wrist was sprained. God, Lucifer was going to _kill_ them all, he thought. His lungs was burning like there was a fire being lit up right under them. All the noise outside of his huffed breathing has become something like white, background static noise.

There was a ringing sound in Sam’s ear and he could vaguely make out the fact that he has two kids hanging onto his arms. Sam turns back, and he really shouldn’t have, because Dean and Jo are running back now, the mist too close to them. The limping woman and half comatose man they saved was obviously not going to make it, even if Lucifer shows up right that moment.

He _tears_ the mist apart, with all the fury of an Archangel, and Sam winces when he saw the creature corrode through Lucifer’s arm. Pieces of meat and blood falls out, but the monster disappears from Lucifer’s figure. The kids are burying their heads in the crook of Sam’s arm, screaming out for their parents, and he feels a knife twist in his heart as he pats their backs while Dean punches a tree, bruising his knuckles, and Jo runs up to Ellen.

“C’mon,” the woman who was like a second mother to them walks up to Sam, a cut that went from the corner of her eye to the corner of her mouth angry and red. “I’ll take them.”

And Sam nods, not able to say anything as the loud sound of crying kids filled the space. It was his fault, he thought. _If_ Sam Winchester did not look back at the moment then Dean would not have nearly tripped, and _if_ Dean did not nearly fall, then the man on his back would not have slipped off, and the woman being dragged by Jo would not have ran back.

“It’s not your fault.” Lucifer was besides him then, and Sam wonders yet again how well Lucifer actually knows him. Knows that he would be blaming all this on himself.

“If I didn’t-” Sam argues on an instinct.

“These- rescue missions. They go _wrong_ , Sam. Even I could not have saved him.” Sam nods then, and placed a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, the Angel’s cold grace seeping through his bones, waking him up from the daze he has been in. Being around Lucifer calms him right down, Sam realises. He was like the man hanging onto the last piece of floating wood. Also, he no longer panics about being calm around Lucifer.

Sam was used to being around the Archangel, like they have been working and fighting together for years and years. The connection between them has spiraled into something more than just an Angel-Vessel thing. They got back to the base as quickly as they could, and Lucifer went off with Gabriel again.

* * *

 

“It was not your fault, Dean,” Jo pats his back, and Dean scoffs. He could see Cas frown out of the corner of his eye.

“You could not have stopped them, Dean. Not even Lucifer or Gabriel could, and they are Archangels.” Cas went and sat by him, and Dean could feel his ears heat up.

“Whoa, Cas, _personal space_.”

“Dean, your Angel is right- there was no way you could have stopped them-” Jo grabbed a beer, and handed Dean one of them. The cold drink made him shiver a little, and feel much more awake. Dean shifted a little from Cas.

“Dude, Cas is not _my_ Angel. Jesus-” Dean took another drink, ignoring how Cas looked a little hurt and confused at what he said. But it was true. There was no way Cas could look like that just because Dean Winchester denied that he wanted him to be his or something-

And Dean chokes on his beer, face bright red despite the coldness of the night. Jo shoots him a look that said ‘I know exactly what the hell you are thinking about,’ and Dean was desperately hoping for the ground to open up and swallow him, or something. Except that would probably lead to a horde of demons ripping him up yet again, which was not good.

“Dean?” And there was Cas again, in his stupid trenchcoat with his stupid backwards tie and his stupid face and pretty blue eyes-

“I gotta leave,” Dean says quickly, pushing Cas’s hand off his shoulder, slamming his beer down on the counter and rushing out of the room, probably with his tail between his legs, if he had a tail, that is.

 

“You don’t mind him there, Angel. Guy’s got issues admitting things.” The girl, Jo, pats Castiel’s back and he nods. He did not explain the hollowing pain he feels in his chest whenever he sees Dean blaming himself, or when Dean pushes him away when he just wanted to help. Castiel could survive without breathing at all but he felt something stuck in his chest that made him choke and suffocate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think of this chapter? :D


	12. Chapter 12

Sam jumps when Gabriel flies up behind him. “Lolly? Chocolate?” The Archangel-Trickster-Pagan God slung an arm around Sam’s shoulders. Or, at least, he tried to. Sam eyes Gabriel attempting to stand on his toes, and he laughs. “Hey, be more serious! Sammy? Samsquatch?!” Gabriel calls.

“What do you want?” Sam slides away from the grinning blond. Gabriel’s grinning face melts into something more serious.

“I want you to help Lucifer, man.”

“How?” Sam asks, as he follows Gabriel as they walked off into the woods growing near the base. Trees are another thing that managed to hide from ‘their’ attacks, even if it took them much longer to grow now, and the air was much foggier.

“I’m just- _me_. I can’t do anything to help _Lucifer_.”

“Of course you can, Sammy. Michael’s gone, you know. Got caught by them”

Sam gapes at that. He never thought of asking Lucifer where was Michael or the other Angels. Not that Lucifer would ever talk to him about that. The forest shoots into the sky, forming a protective circle around the base. Without humans and with the world at it’s end all living creatures began to grow and push as if they were at the end of their lives. It was dark and Gabriel’s eyes glowed a bright blue.

“You and I, Sammy. We’re all Lucifer has now, and you don’t even acknowledge him.” Gabriel kicks at the ground, hands in his pockets. Sam finds himself falling in step behind the Archangel. Of course they’d be talking about Lucifer, Sam thought. He does his best to avoid the Devil these days, except for leaving to search for food(and food is the worst problem now).

“Why should I?” Sam mutters under his breath, and Gabriel turns, fixing his eyes on him, blue and glowing and eerie.

“Look at what he’s done for you, Sam, given up for you.” Gabriel almost sound sad now, with a sort of wistfulness that Sam has only heard when ever Lucifer let something slip about his life in Heaven.

And Sam does know, and he can see what Lucifer has done for him- saving the humans, helping them even though he really _does not have to_ (and Sam knows that Lucifer could fight ‘them’ without having to save him or any strangers they find).

Letting blood out and cutting pieces of grace to make the base stronger because Sam asked him to. That’s it. Sam asked Lucifer for help and Lucifer did it just because _Sam_ asked. It scares him- it really does, the way Lucifer would do _everything_ for him(and there is no doubt that he would). And that, given the chance, Sam would probably not give his all to Lucifer if their positions were reversed.

“But why?” Sam asks, as they began to turn and walk back, since any angel using their powers light up like a beacon to the creatures that was tearing through the edges of this universe. Wow, _universe_. That’s a big, _grand_ thought that Sam just cannot wrap his mind around, and Lucifer and Gabriel and even Cas was older than or as old as the universe.

“Why would he do all these things- for me? What’s it about _me_ that..you know, makes him to all that?” And these were really Sam’s questions, ones that he has wanted to ask Lucifer but never managed to get out of his head to his mouth. Sam is always tongue tied around Lucifer.

“Cause. He only has you, Sammy. Millions of years in hell and he only has you.”

 _Millions_ of years. Christ, that was in a scale Sam could not even think of. And Lucifer was stuck in the Cage for millions of years. Gabriel was looking down on the ground, eyes no longer glowing now that they are back in the base. Even now, with most of the monsters no longer on the earthly plane, there were still patches of mist that blocks out everything that rips through air and space and energy floating around.

And then Sam trips on a banana peel and all he could hear was Gabriel’s obnoxious laughter, and it was obvious who placed it there. Sam shakes his head a little after he pushes himself up. He doesn’t blame Gabriel for wanting to play tricks on him, or the others. What they were talking about was just- Sam shook his head, and walks back, and bumps into Lucifer.

* * *

 

“...Hey.” Sam forces a stunted greeting out of his mouth, and Lucifer just looks at him like he knows exactly what Sam is thinking. And shit, he probably does since he just reads Sam so well, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to even try and feel freaked. Millions of years. And Archangel ripped from Heaven, a Cage, and _him_.

“Sam.” Lucifer sounds just like he does before, eyes always on Sam, the creature behind them incredibly old but real and there and right before Sam- “You’re broadcasting your thoughts so loud every Angel hear could hear it.”

“Oh.” And that’s it. That was Sam’s reply. He really wishes that he could come up with smart, witty responses like Dean without feeling his face burn. “Millions of years，man- Gabriel told me.” He asks, and Lucifer falls silent.

Sam could tell that his eyes was on him, and they were almost nose to nose, too close together. Sam focuses his view on the side of Lucifer’s jaw, avoiding his gaze. “Why did you wait for me? I’m just,” Sam walks back a little, noticing just how close he was to Lucifer. He gestures to himself hands flopping uselessly. “ _Sam_ , and you’re” he points to Lucifer “ _you_. You know.” “

You were always who I have been looking forward to meet, Sam.” Lucifer’s voice is quieter than usual, and Sam is sweating a little and his shirt is sticking to his back. “All those years in hell, and I did not go insane because I knew that your soul would come into being some time in the future. You cannot comprehend just _how much_ you mean to me.”

Lucifer brings his fingers up to Sam’s forehead, and Sam closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what'd you think?　❤


	13. Chapter 13

Dean was drunk, he was definitely drunk and he has a black eye from the last time he went out with a group to search for food, since there are more and more people in this place now. Well, people, and the creatures that has not been taken by the fuckers who eats everything and the ones that has been ganked by the hunters here. How many are here? Dean stumbles, and swears as his bruises started to _throb_ again. Nearly, uh, a hundred, Dean thinks, most of them living in tents and fixing up bullets and everything. There was even a priest there, and that just made getting holy water a whole lot easier.

There was another base, too. Dean fished around his coat pocket for Sam’s note book- the one that he writes everything in and gives to Dean to keep. One on the other side of South Dakota...bordering North Dakota, that Cas was pretty sure that had another Angel. Cas. Now that’s someone Dean did _not_ want to think about.

Two hours ago, Dean Winchester was out of his mind and grabbed Cas the Angel by his collar and _made out_ with him, and now he was locked in his room getting drunk off his ass. Two hours ago, they were running away from the fucking eldritch horror that is the tentacled(was it tentacled?) creature that seemed to squirm it’s way towards him and Cas at an impossible speed.

It fell from a piece of the mist that was the size of a house, and it was still alive, hissing with black liquid smoke. It made Dean want to poke his eyes out, but he and Ellen takes it much better than the other guy that was with them. Seeing and hunting monsters all their lives tends to make their capacity of standing seeing things out of horror movies at a regular basis.

Fuck, now Dean was just trying his best to not think of _Cas_ , of how his breath was still on Dean’s mouth or how he can still feel chapped lips on his and blue eyes that seems to know everything about Dean. Dean has it bad for the Angel and he honestly feels like a shittier person because of it(not that Dean ever thought much highly about himself). Dean Winchester did not deserve Cas and he could have remained(sort of, kind of) friends with him if he did not let his dick take over his mind and lean over.

The door opens and Dean turns numbly, letting go a secret breath of relief that it was Sam.

“Jesus, Dean, _what happened_ to you? Cas flapped off with Lucifer and I can’t find them-”

“What, what?!” Dean was up in a second, heart hammering. “Jesus, Sam, you left Cas with _Satan_?”

“Well, yeah,” Sam stops his brother and decides to have a talk with him about Lucifer being on their side sometime later, since Dean looks like shit right now. And he does. Mussed up hair, a scabbed, bruised cut on his face and dark circles under his eyes and the smell of beer and whiskey on his breath. “But holy shit, Dean, what the hell happened to your face?”

And Sam is really, really concerned for his brother, because it’s been a long _long_ time since he last saw Dean like this, filled with so much anger directed at himself. Sam really does not understand why exactly Dean intends on doing all this to himself, but it does not mean that he wouldn’t do his best to try and have Dean realise that he is worth it.

“Don’t ask, Sammy, where the hell is Cas?”

“I dunno,” Sam shrugs. “But he’ll be fine, I think. I mean, he’s _Cas,_ Dean.”

“Man, Sam, I _know_ that.” Dean picks up the bottle, and strides out of the room. Sam shakes his head, and follows him out.

* * *

 

“Castiel.” Lucifer turns to his younger brother, who looks as serious as ever. Michael’s hand was on his shoulder, but he could tell that Castiel could not see the older Archangel, which means this problem lies with him. He tenses. Having the hallucination of a brother who pushed and trapped him in the Cage appear around him at the most incontinent times were trying on his mind.

“Lucifer.” Castiel gave him a curt nod, like a good little Angel soldier. Wanting to be near the morning star but staying a respectful distance from the rebel of heaven. There is more than a little bit of rebellion in this brother, though, and sending Dean to stop Sam from releasing him was a good show of that. No wonder Dean Winchester seemed so down when he died the first time.

“You wanted to tell me something, little brother,” Lucifer leant against the wall, foot resting against the wild grass that was growing out of an energy depleted earth. Such strong will for life, Lucifer thought. Much better than the humans, except for Sam. Sam has such a strong will as well.

“They’ve gotten to Purgatory, Lucifer.” Castiel turns to him. “You’ve seen it.”

“The Leviathan.” Or rather, a small part of the whole monster. “Even they cannot hide from them.” “

They were there in the darkness before even Heaven, and even then.” Castiel shook his head, rubbing a finger against his lips, mind running back to Dean’s actions. It came as a surprise, but it sends a shockwave through Castiel’s body, making his heart hammer in his chest. “Purgatory is fighting back. I can feel it, and you can, too.”

Lucifer pushes his grace down into his body. It’s easier now that his grace is no longer bursting at the seams.

“It’s because of you and Gabriel that ‘they’ even chose to come to the earthly plane, Lucifer,” Michael leans against the wall besides him, pushing up against Castiel. Except only Lucifer could see him.

“Archangels are the most powerful and therefore attractive beings to ‘them’ apart from our father. That's why Heaven is no longer under attack. Two Archangels tastes better than one.” Lucifer turns to Michael, ignoring Castiel’s curious glance.

“You can’t stay here and expect ‘them’ not to come back eventually, and _then_ where would Sam Winchester _be_?” Michael's words is leading Lucifer to a conclusion that he does not want to think about.

"Of course, you don't want to leave your true vessel." It was not Michael, Lucifer knows that, because Michael is gone. The Michael he sees right now is a part of his mind, telling him things he does not want to admit to himself.

"You were always so selfish, Lucifer, and this time your vessel would die because of you. Make a decision, Lucifer." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	14. Chapter 14

“I know what you’re thinking bout, Lucy,” Gabriel turns to him, and Lucifer was suddenly glad that his vivid hallucination of Michael is not here. Unlike Castiel, Gabriel was bound to see something wrong with him.

“Gabriel.” Lucifer warns him.

“I just don’t _get it_ ,” Gabriel lies down on the ground, Lucifer sitting cross legged next to him. “I mean, yeah, you’d do everything for your little vessel and all that, but this, Lucifer, it’s _crazy_! We could _die_ -”

“I’m not asking you to go with me.” Lucifer tells Gabriel. “My power should be sufficient enough to attract ‘them’ into Purgatory along with the Leviathans.”

Gabriel snorts at that. “You think I’ll just let you _waltz_ into the land of monsters all by yourself, Lucifer?”

“I cannot make sure of your safety if you go with me.” Lucifer eyes Gabriel.

“You just don’t want your baby brother to be hurt, Lucifer. But he doesn’t appreciate it. No one _ever_ appreciates what the Devil tries to do for them, don’t they?” Not-Michael appears by Lucifer’s side again, but by then Lucifer has already learnt how to ignore him.

“Well, yeah, but maybe I don’t need your help, Lucy. I’ve done _without_ it for most of my life.” And then Gabriel turns, and leaves, and Lucifer is left with nothing to do but follow Sam around, attempting to get drunk with alcohol like the humans do.

* * *

 

“Why is he moping around?” Dean points at Lucifer who has squashed himself in between Sam and Dean. “ _Why_ are you moping around?”

Lucifer ignores him, turning to the drink. It is much weaker than he expected, and did nothing. Castiel did promise him that it was a good way to relieve stress, though.

“You know, he might just finish all our collection,” Sam tries to snatch the bottle away from Lucifer, earning him a glare. Michael’s shadow squeezes in the corner. He only appears when Lucifer is troubled, and it makes him more troubled. It was not a good thing, but Lucifer found it harder to control himself now.

“How long has he been at this?” Dean glares at Lucifer, wincing at the thought of the Devil drinking all his booze.

“A day? Half a day?” Sam mutters, trying to get Lucifer away again. “Lucifer, stop!”

“W-whyh should I?” Lucifer turns to the side, leaning on Sam’s shoulder. “I don’t _wanna_.” The drink is finally taking hold in his mind, and Michael’s shadow disappears. Lucifer can see him flicker. How much did he drink? Lucifer barely remember, but it must have been more than he thought. If he was at his full power, Lucifer though, it would have taken much more than this to get him inebriated.

But then again, he is no longer at his full power. Not fall a long time, not with the world wanting to consume every bit of his grace. Every time Lucifer gets near one of those things, they eat away a bit of his grace, ripped from his broken wings or his body. Every time Lucifer sets up a protective sigil, it takes away a bit of his grace. Lucifer can make his own grace, of course, all archangels can. But when the supply does not match the demand then he becomes weaker, closer to human, landlocked in this body.

Sam can feel his face- no, his entire body- burning up. Lucifer was closer to him than he has ever been, and even though that is not his body it felt like Lucifer is draping himself all over Sam. Lucifer is a _sleepy_ drunk, mumbling words that Sam could not understand, and Sam excuses himself from Dean and drags Lucifer off to Bobby’s house. It has become a bit of a home base for them, surrounded by cars and tents and wooden cabins. Lucifer is only slightly shorter than Sam, and dragging him around reminded Sam of that time months ago when he had his hands all over Lucifer’s colder than normal body.

The Archangel’s face is covered by a pink flush over his cheeks, eyes closed as he leant on Sam. Sam has one arm around Lucifer’s waist and Lucifer’s arm slung around his shoulders. He is lighter than Sam expected, like he would float away if Sam did not hold him down.

“Cas! Come help!” Sam calls out at the Angel who was sitting on the ground, looking up as if thinking about something. He stood up, frowning. “Lucifer got smashed.”

“Ah, yes.” Cas nods, brows smoothed over. “I told him to do so.”

“ _Really_?” Sam stares at Cas. He did not seem to be the type getting other Angels drunk.

“Lucifer said he needed to take something off his mind. Inebriation is a useful method among humans, from what I have observed.”

“Ah.” Sam can’t really find anything to say at Cas. Dean probably taught him that, and then Cas told Lucifer. And now Lucifer is mumbling nonsense into the crook of Sam’s neck, and Sam’s heart is beating at a hundred miles an hour. Sam drops Lucifer on his bed, and Lucifer falls against it, clutching Sam’s pillow in his arms, nose buried in the soft fabric.

Getting slightly jealous of an inanimate object, Sam thought, was low.

 

“What does it mean,” Cas asks him, and Sam transfers his attention to the Angel. The _good_ Angel, that is. “When someone place’s ones lips over someone else’s?”

“You mean like a kiss?” Sam raises an eyebrow, wondering what caused Cas to ask that question.

“Well, yes.” Castiel rubs his chin. A kiss. Dean kissed him, and now he feels like there is a hand squeezing his vessel’s stomach.

“Why are you asking, Cas?” Sam raises his eyebrows, trying to not make himself look too interested.

“I...want to know what it means.” Castiel decides not to tell Sam. At least not yet.

“Well,” Sam shrugs. “People usually kiss their partner’s on the mouth. Someone they love.”

“...Thank you, Sam.” Castiel stands quickly, patting down his coat. “I should go.” Before Sam could say anything else, Cas was off in the dark.

“Huh, weird.” Sam stands, and walks back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapter! Sorry for updating so late but my modem was acting up the last few days.


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